


Until You Jump

by shimmerwings



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Inktober 2019, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21688150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shimmerwings/pseuds/shimmerwings
Summary: A family rivalry under the Big Top.  Another chance for Panto and Silas to find each other.
Relationships: Silas Dengdamor/Prince Panto Trost
Kudos: 8





	Until You Jump

**Author's Note:**

> "The show cannot begin until you jump."
> 
> Inktober prompt: Swing

Silas whistled softly as he slipped through the bars of the horse enclosure. Several of the herd pricked up their ears in interest, but they recognized Emmaline's specific call and stayed put as the cloud-dappled mare trotted over. He felt his heart lift just a little as his favored mount butted her head gently against his chest in greeting, her warm breath gusting against him as she whickered.

“Hello, beautiful,” he said as he braced himself against her side. With ease of long practice, he took out a comb and began to smooth out the few tangles that had time to form in her mane since her last grooming. He had no real reason to do this, but out among the animals was his favorite place to lick his wounds after each inevitable clash with his family. It was an ironic hiding spot, given they were often the cause of his disputes, but he was hardly the only one to find peace with their beloved troupe of performing horses. There was rarely a moment that someone else wasn't here within the enclosure as well, but today's argument had taken place when most of the animal workers were still at supper. The last of his mother's biting words had stolen his appetite entirely.

As if the thought of someone interrupting him had summoned them, Silas heard the quiet crunch of a footstep on gravel at the gate to the enclosure. Emmaline pranced a quick side-step as she sensed the sudden ratcheting of tension between his shoulders. He was prepared to stoically ignore any barbs, he just wished he'd gotten a little longer alone.

“You're right, you know,” the visitor said, and Silas's eyes widened at the voice of one of the last people he would have expected to hear.

When he turned on his heel he saw one of the circus's top aerialists propped up casually against the gate, one soft-shoed foot on the bottom rung. Panto Trost, of the Flying Trosts, a face that graced many posters, handsome and confident in a way that Silas only achieved when he was totally at one with his mount during a performance. His family of trapeze artists and acrobats had been locked in an ongoing feud with Silas's family, the Dengdamors, who dominated the equestrian acts. It was therefore highly unusual for Panto to come seeking Silas, especially with an expression of sympathy on his face.

“I'm sorry?” Silas asked, feeling off-kilter.

Panto ran a calloused hand through the pink-dyed hair that made his family stand out against the vault of the big top when they swung through the air. He smiled ruefully at Silas. “I apologize, I'm butting into a discussion I have no place in, but you know how small the circus really is.” Silas flushed. He knew that everyone who hadn't heard the arguments found out about them in short order, but it was usually an unspoken rule that you pretended not to hear the things that weren't aimed at you. Before he could muster up more than a vague sense of shame, Panto was continuing. “I just wanted to let you know that I think you're right about the acts.”

Silas blinked, his mind racing as he tried to work out what to say. No one but his younger brother Farson had ever shown interest in his ideas before. He took a moment to place a hand on the soothing warmth of Emmaline's flank. “My mother would believe you're saying that because you're trying to sabotage our success in order to bolster your own.”

Panto made a dismissive noise. “No offense to your mother,” he said, “but she's an overbearing harpy.”

Silas choked on an involuntary laugh. “You can't say no offense and then say something clearly offensive,” he objected, but judging by the tiny smirk on Panto's lips he hadn't succeeded in sounding outraged enough.

“She doesn't see what's in front of her,” Panto said with a strange intensity, blue eyes boring into Silas's darker eyes. Heart tripping into faster tempo, Silas held his gaze until the other man looked away with a shrug. “I have the same issue with my family. They're stuck in the past, but things are changing.”

Intrigued, Silas stepped away from Emmaline until he stood just a few feet from Panto. As the sun lowered in the sky, it framed him in purple-pink hues that complemented his rosy hair. Not far from the enclosure, the ever present sounds of the circus camp kicked up a notch as bonfires were lit and drinks began to pass around, but Silas felt as if they were cocooned in a bubble of intimate stillness.

“So you have new ideas about your family's act, too?”

Panto smiled, a mix of wistfulness and hope twisting his lips. “Worse,” he said. “I have new ideas about ways we could combine our act with our old rivals, this equestrian group you may know.”

Silas laughed breathlessly. “Really?” he said, but his mind was already racing ahead, beginning to sort through his ideas for ways to incorporate an aerial element.

“Really really,” Panto said with a growing grin, clearly able to tell that they were now on the same page. With an a nimble twist, he swung himself over the gate until he was seated an the top bar, leaning until they were only a hands-breadth apart. “And I believe with the two of us, we'll be able to convince them all eventually. Let me tell you what I've been thinking...”


End file.
